


A Mother’s Love

by MommyMaleficent



Series: a Dragon, a Queen, and their little Princess [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Gen, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, Mommy Maleficent, Mommy Snow, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Non-Sexual Age Play, little Emma, mommy Regina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommyMaleficent/pseuds/MommyMaleficent
Summary: Snow struggles to reconcile her unresolved feelings between being Emma’s mother and her feelings about Emma’s other mommies.





	A Mother’s Love

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes. posting a mother-daughter centric on father’s day.  
> that’s the ticket.
> 
> adreamywriter:  
> "How does Snow feel about Emma’s new mommies? That could be interesting and possibly full of angst."

“Are they treating you well?”

“Yeah. Of course they are.”

It isn’t any of her business, she tells herself over and over.

“Keep me updated?” she asks, a hand on Emma’s shoulder. She squeezes. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Emma breaks out into a grin, and then a light laugh. “Mom, I’m _fine_!” And then she adds softly, hand over hers and leaning into it, “I love you too.”

It doesn’t matter what Emma does in her free time as long as she’s safe, healthy, and happy. That’s another one.

But Snow would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt. To see her Emma— _her_ baby. _Hers_ —calling another woman Mommy, even if she doesn’t mean it like that.

Worse. Emma calls two women by that title.

Her phone vibrates on the counter, and she grabs it before Snow could see who’s calling.

“Be right back.”

She always makes sure never to do it in front of her. But Snow isn’t blind, and she certainly isn’t deaf. When it’s just the two of them alone in the loft, and Emma disappears into the bathroom where it echos at the slightest sound, it isn’t difficult to hear “Yes Mommy, I’m being good,” or “Love you too, Mama,” without feeling like that poison apple slice has lodged itself in her throat again.

The fact that it isn’t a sexual thing makes it hurt more. Were it a turn-on for her daughter, to call another woman Mommy or Mama, Snow would never even know about it. What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom.

But this wasn’t that. Not even close. This was Emma’s need for comfort, for safety, for release from her adult burdens that only one so acquainted and attuned to her needs can provide. It went longer than anything that could happen in a bedroom because this need of hers was constant, left over from the days where comfort and a feeling of security was a luxury in very short supply. One could live without sex. But not without love.

Love Snow wants desperately to give.

It’s not like she’s being replaced. She knows who she is, and so does Emma. She and the entire town knows that she, Snow White, is the mother to Emma Swan. Emma, the Savior of all the Happy Endings. Her daughter. Her princess. Her baby.

The baby girl she never got to raise.

She wants to hate them, Regina and Maleficent. She wants to yell at them for rubbing their relationship with Emma in her face, to scream at them to stay away from her little girl.

“She’s _my_ daughter,” she’d say, her arms around Emma’s shoulders. Emma would be hugging her like no tomorrow, burying her face in her shoulder, wanting only to be in her arms. “I carried her. I gave birth to her. I am her mother, and no one, not even the two of you, can take that away from me. _She’s_ _mine_.”

And then she chastises herself for thinking such awful, selfish thoughts. Because try as she might, Snow White could never truly hate anyone. Pity, perhaps. Dislike, definitely. But hate is too strong, even for the likes of them.

Sometimes, her anguish manifests in the form of fat, hot tears that roll down her cheeks like spilled honey. She hugs her pillow tight to her chest, eyes squeezed shut and pushing every single tear, and making sure to keep as silent as possible. Sometimes Emma notices, and touches her shoulder to let her know she’s there.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“Nope.”

“You wanna be alone?”

She hesitates. “Nope.”

And Emma would lie with her without another word. Emma, who tries her best to take care of her by making hot chocolate and popping in a corny movie, who offers to get groceries, or god forbid, _cook_ , if she needs that kind of help. Adult Emma who calls her Mom.

Never Mommy.

Never Mama.

Never again.

It’s too late. She’s missed her chance.

And when it’s time to return her daughter to them when they come to pick her up, Snow pretends she doesn’t notice the little smile on Emma’s face. When Regina distracts her with pleasantries and small talk, she pretends not to see the little caresses to Emma’s cheek Maleficent gives her, nor the blatant kiss to her forehead as their hands slip together.

Emma is so short standing next to Maleficent.

“Dear?” Regina asks, tilting her head to catch her eye, and Snow blinks back to attention. “Are you all right?”

She touches her cheek.

“You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

Emma and Maleficent cease their little conversation as Snow pulls away from Regina’s well-intentioned hand. They look over, concerned.

“Has someone been unkind to you, Snow?” Maleficent asks, her voice gentle. Genuine.

Snow swallows. Here’s her chance. To lay claim on her daughter. To tell them exactly how she feels about their dynamic even though it’s none of her business. To tell them to stay away from her baby.

She takes a breath.

“Nothing.”

“Mom,” Emma adds, breaking from Maleficent to stand beside Snow, touching her arm gently. “You know you can tell me. Tell _us_. We have magic, and... diplomacy skills. We can—”

She gasps slightly when Snow raises a slow, steady hand and touches her cheek. Caresses the one Maleficent didn’t. And for a moment, Emma’s eyes soften. She eases. She leans into her hand, green eyes fluttering closed when Snow’s thumb brushes her skin in small strokes.

For a moment, she gets a taste of what she never got. And that’s all she wants.

The tears return, and she prays Regina won’t see, that Maleficent won’t notice, that Emma won’t catch on.

“I’m fine, sweetie,” Snow whispers. “Mommy’s okay.”

It just comes out. Like it’s always been there. Naturally. Eagerly. No one speaks for a full minute. And then...

“Okay,” Emma whispers.

She watches as Snow’s hand falls when she takes it away, and bites her lip.

“Okay,” she says a little louder, as though trying to reaffirm herself. Then her eyes flicker to Regina and Maleficent before coming back to Snow’s. “We’ll be around, yeah? See you soon?”

There is a quaver in her voice like she’s unsure of something. Snow freezes. Does she know?

But she forces herself to nod, and to smile. “Of course, baby. See you soon.”

They don’t talk about it once she closes the door and presses her ear against the wood to listen. The only sounds she hears are the soles of their shoes against the floorboards, and the creaking of the stairs as they descend. And even then, there is no talking. They’re too careful.

And Snow goes back to bed. Wraps herself in her blanket and hugs her favorite pillow.

“Mommy loves you, Emma...” she whispers as the tears start falling. “More than you can ever imagine.”


End file.
